


ILY

by MamaWithGloriousPurpose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:45:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaWithGloriousPurpose/pseuds/MamaWithGloriousPurpose
Summary: Coda for 12x12. Dean says the thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick drabble, wrote in a hurry. No beta or proofreading or proper thought-processing of any kind took place. I'm super glad Dean and Cas are a little freer to be themselves lately. Destiel may never reach its full potential. But their relationship is definitely a romance. I'm so happy I get to watch them falling.

“I love you too, you know.”

He didn't mean for the words to come out so angrily. But the heaviness of the night’s events were weighing on Dean’s shoulders in the aftermath of the hunt. The car ride back had been quiet. Mary and Sam drove Cas’ truck back to the bunker. Cas had laid back silently in the impala's passenger seat until they pulled into the garage. They'd all given each other hugs and half spoken words of love before retreating to their various rooms citing exhaustion. Dean had showered and then shifted awkwardly on his mattress for all of five minutes before going in search of his friend. The angel usually did not require sleep, but even he had chosen solitude for the night. Dean found him stretched across a mattress in the room they'd given him. Though he rarely used it, choosing instead to spend his lonely nights in the library or one of the many archive rooms.

Cas sat up at Dean's intrusion. “Dean?”

“I do,” Dean continued, whisper shouting at his friend. “I love you. And you fucking know it. So, don't you dare do that again. Ever.”

“Don't do what, Dean? I don't underst-”

“Die on me like that! You got it? No more close calls, no more mortal wounds, and no more deathbed love declarations. I can't see you like that again.”

Cas gestured for Dean to sit, scooting over on the bed slightly as Dean obliged. “You know I can't promi-”

Dean cut Cas' words of with a chaste kiss. It was over in a flash, but the warmth clung to his lips as the sentiment lingered in the air between them. And though Dean was the initiator, the hunter’s expression flushed with irritation. In contrast, Cas’ face suppressed a stirring of affection. The face he tried to hide only furthered Dean’s frustration. “Oh no, don't you look at me like that.”

“Like what, Dean? Like I love you? Because I'm afraid I can't help that.” The angel reached across the space between them and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

“I can't do this Cas. I can't,” Dean closed his eyes as Cas held a palm to his cheek. “I can’t lose you again.”

Cas pulled Dean in for a kiss, cradling his face gently. Dean gripped Cas by the lapels of his coat, holding on with all he had. It wasn't the first kiss they shared, nor would it be the last. They stole away many moments together in Dean's room or the backseat of the impala, even tucked away in motel bathroom a time or two. They didn't hide what they had, nor could they. But they didn't flash it around either. It was too important, too temporary in the grand scheme of their unfortunate lives.

“I'm right here, Dean. You have me.”

Cas pushed Dean back on the mattress, rolling on top of him and continuing what they had started.

“Wait,” Dean breathed. “Why didn't you come to my room? How could you think I'd let you spend tonight alone?”

“We went through a lot tonight, Dean. You need your rest.”

“I need you _home_ , Cas. Come on.” Dean nudged Cas to stand and interlaced their fingers as he followed him up. He pulled the angel out of the cold, empty room, shutting the door behind them. Normally he would've let go on their trek to Dean’s room. Not tonight though. They held hands down the hall, Dean waving his free hand to Sam when they passed by his room, door ajar. “Night, Sammy,” Dean threw the words casually over his shoulder.

He pulled Cas into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot. They walked toward the bed, Cas with his back to it, not breaking eye contact until Dean leaned in to whisper in Cas’ ear. He whispered the words he'd never withhold again. Not from Cas, not from Sam or Mary or any family for that matter. Not anymore. They made love like it was any other night and no one had the veil of death hanging over their heads only hours ago. And when Dean woke in the morning, it was to the soft murmur in his ear and a warm hand on his chest. He turned on his hip to regain the eye contact lost in his slumber and echoed the words they'd both be repeating before and after every hunt and twice on movie nights. Because in their line of work, in this life, now was all the time they had.

“I love you too.”


End file.
